


Garreg Mach Monastery Presents: The Path of Radiance

by Her_Madjesty



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Morals of Growth, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Madjesty/pseuds/Her_Madjesty
Summary: The students at Garreg Mach Monastery present their musical rendition of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: Fire Emblem Writer's Zine





	1. Dramatis Personae and Synopsis of Scenes

**Author's Note:**

> Who in their right mind let me write this (oh wait, it was the Fire Emblem Writer's Zine).
> 
> Special thanks go out to Charru for the magnificent art they created for the zine (currently not available on social media, here is their [Twitter](https://twitter.com/warrutweet?s=09)) as well as to WingBerry, who indulged my mad-cap request for an overture! "The Family Business" is [currently available for listening on SoundCloud!](https://soundcloud.com/wingberry/the-family-business-final) WingBerry had slots open for commissions at the time of posting, so if you want music of your own, head on over!
> 
> With all of that in mind, let's dive into this, shall we?

_Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy Presents:_

**The Path of Radiance**

*******

**_Dramatis Personae_ **

Ike

| 

Dedue Molinaro  
  
---|---  
  
Greil

| 

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd  
  
Titania

| 

Leonie Pinelli  
  
Soren

| 

Edelgard von Hresvelg  
  
Mist

| 

Annette Fantine Dominic  
  
Volke

| 

Claude von Riegan  
  
Sanaki

| 

Lysithea von Ordelia  
  
Reyson

| 

Ingrid Brandl Galatea  
  
Leanne

| 

Mercedes von Martritz  
  
Elincia

| 

Dorothea Arnault  
  
Nasir

| 

Yuri Leclair  
  
Black Knight

| 

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier  
  
Ashnard

| 

Alois Rangeld  
  
***

_**Synopsis of Scenes** _

Overture (Over Tellus)

| 

Instrumental  
  
---|---  
  
_Act I_

The Family Business

| 

Ike, Greil, Mist, Chorus  
  
---|---  
  
The Family Business (reprise)

| 

Ike  
  
Walking In The Woods

| 

Ike, Elincia  
  
War!

| 

Soren, Elincia, Chorus  
  
The Greil Mercenaries

| 

Greil, Chorus  
  
The Black Knight Cometh

| 

Instrumental  
  
The Death of Greil

| 

Greil, The Black Knight  
  
Greil’s Monologue

| 

Greil  
  
Mourning Song (Galdrar I)

| 

Ike, Mist  
  
_Act II_

Ashnard’s Reign

| 

Alois, Chorus  
  
---|---  
  
Out of Crimea (The Family Business, reprise II)

| 

Ike, Titania, Elincia, Chorus  
  
In The Light

| 

Caineghis, the Laguz Kings  
  
The Journey To Begnion

| 

Instrumental  
  
The Legend of The Fire Emblem

| 

Nasir  
  
Greeting The Apostle

| 

Ike, Elincia, Sanaki, Chorus  
  
_Intermission_

_Act III_

The Herons

| 

Sanaki  
  
---|---  
  
In The Light (reprise)

| 

Mist  
  
Reviving The Forest (Galdrar II)

| 

Reyson, Leanne  
  
Volke’s Secrets

| 

Volke  
  
Rising Through The Ranks

| 

Sanaki, Ike, Chorus  
  
The Night Before Crimea

| 

Elincia, Ike  
  
Ashnard’s Arrival

| 

Instrumental  
  
Mist’s Song (Galdrar III)

| 

Mist  
  
The Legend of the Fire Emblem (reprise)

| 

Ashnard, Nasir  
  
The Black Knight Cometh (reprise)

| 

The Black Knight  
  
The Duel (The Family Business, reprise III)

| 

Ike  
  
Into The Future

| 

Elincia


	2. The Path of Radiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks once again go out to Charru for the magnificent art they created for the zine (currently not available on social media, here is their [Twitter](https://twitter.com/warrutweet?s=09)) as well as to WingBerry, who indulged my mad-cap request for an overture! "The Family Business" is [currently available for listening on SoundCloud!](https://soundcloud.com/wingberry/the-family-business-final) WingBerry had slots open for commissions at the time of posting, so if you want music of your own, head on over!

Horsebow Moon, 1179

“Seteth, dear!” The night is young, but Manuela has long learned to take advantage of the lingering summer sunlight. She leans against the door to her modest teacher’s quarters and smiles – somewhat confused, somewhat flattered, and somewhat buzzed – at the man standing in her door. “Whatever could you want me for on this fine evening?”

“Good evening, Manuela,” Seteth replies, some of his dry exhaustion leaking into his voice. He eyes the wine bottle she has on a nearby table, and the filth in the rest of the room, but then clears his throat and fixes on her face. “I apologize for intruding on your personal time, but I’m afraid that I have a favor to ask.”

Manuela waggles her eyebrows, just to see the aide’s cheeks flush with displeasure. “Why, Seteth, I had no idea you were in the market for such things.”

“I – _no,_ ” Seteth insists. “This is a request from the archbishop.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so? Come inside,” Manuela waves him in. “Have a drink.”

She takes a little too much joy in the groan Seteth so obviously suppresses, but really, it is the little things a person must enjoy.

“Now, what does our dear Lady Rhea want of me? Oh, wait! I know. Hanneman’s quitting, isn’t he? You want me to take over his class for the coming year. Oh, I must say, Seteth, it’s a hard task to ask, but if it means that old gumflapper is gone, I just might - “

“I promise you, this has little to do with the inner workings of the monastery itself.” Seteth looks longingly towards the bottle of wine, now. “Rather, it has to do with your history as a songstress.”

Before Manuela can get another word in, he places a book on the table between them. “You’ve heard, of course, of the Radiance fable?”

“Well of course,” Manuela says with a frown. “Who hasn’t?”

“As it turns out, most of the Kingdom of Faergus,” Seteth says. “It’s with that in mind that the archbishop wishes to...commission you, for lack of a better term. She believes that the morals within the fable are worth sharing, and that there’s little better way to do so than...well, than through musical means.”

He trails off there, taken aback by the bright gleam in Manuela’s eyes.

“Seteth, dear.” Manuela reaches out and touches his sleeve. “Are you asking me to draft a musical?”

Seteth – hesitates. “The Archbishop -”

“I’ll do it!” Manuela stands, taking her wine bottle in hand as she rises. “Oh, don’t you fret, Seteth dear – give me a matter of months, and I’ll bring together the best damned musical the entire continent’s ever seen! Of course, I won’t be able to compose on my own time – I was never one for a full orchestra, anyway – but I have some friends in the Empire who would be more than willing to come and help out. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

“Your enthusiasm is...heartening,” Seteth says with a sigh. “Now, sit, I beg you – we’ll have to hammer out the details.”

Great Tree Moon, 1180

The writing process takes longer than she’d like, and her friends do linger with their contributions, but after seven months and more effort than she feels she’s been compensated for, Manuela delivers both score and script to the awaiting Archbishop’s aide. “I rewrote the ending,” she calls to him as she waltzes out the door. “Two big battles in one show? And with Ashnard as the actual villain? Please, Seteth – every audience knows that it’s the family connection that drives these things home. Give the finale to the Black Knight or cancel the thing entirely.”

Seteth opens his mouth to argue, but Manuela is already gone, smug in her hasty – and victorious – retreat.

She oversees the auditions over the course of the next several days, aided on occasion by the traveling strangers she introduces as old friends from the Empire. During the second week of classes, with the first mock-battle out of the way, the cast list goes live in the midst of a bustling dining hall. Manuela, having encouraged one of the cooks to go out and post the notice for her, lingers in the kitchen doorway as the murmur in the hall becomes a dull roar.

“She casts _Dedue_?!” Hilda shrieks, not a few seconds after shoving her way to the front of the eager crowd. Behind her, Lorenz looks up from the floor, eyes equally wide. “I mean, it’s not like Dimitri’s a surprise, and Dorothea makes sense. But Dedue?”

“T-there’s no need to be rude about it,” mutters Ashe from somewhere around her elbow. “He’s actually pretty talented, if you know how to listen.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” Hilda scoffs. “I don’t have a problem when it comes to listening. It’s just so...unexpected, you know?”

“I’ll bet His Highness talked him into it,” muses Mercedes, flushed prettily from the announcement of her own role. “I didn’t know Dimitri was auditioning, either.”

“At least it’s no surprise Dorothea’s made it,” Hilda grumbles, finally moving away from the list. “And Claude, too. Ugh, I hope he doesn’t try to talk me into helping with this whole thing. I couldn’t make a set if a paintbrush bit me.”

Towards the back of the crowd, Manuela sees the Crown Prince of Faergus bring a hand down on his loyal retainer’s shoulder.

“Well, my friend,” the prince says, color high in his cheeks, “you have had so few chances to share your singing voice with others. I suppose we were lucky to be graced with such an opportunity this year.”

It’s difficult to tell at her distance, but Manuela’s an experienced performer. She can see the mask of calm Dedue clings to so tightly start to slip with the first signs of panic.

“Don’t fret,” Dimitri chides, squeezing his friend’s shoulder with care. “I’ll be there every step away.”

Dedue lets out a grunt that, to anyone else’s ears, would be perfectly composed. But Manuela and the prince both recognize the tight clench of his fist and the slight palor that’s overtaken his features. With all the elegance required of a future ruler, Dimitri subtly – and then, less so – begins to herd Dedue out of the dining hall.

“Well,” Manuela hears Dimitri say as they go, “at least the goings-on this year will be interesting?”

The look Dedue shoots him would almost be considered insubordinate, if Dimitri cared about those things. Manuela waits until both of the young men are out of sight before doubling over behind the kitchen door, a hand pressed to her mouth to suppress her sympathetic laughter.

Red Wolf Moon, 1180

The next few months pass in a blur. One day, Manuela looks up and finds that rehearsals are well under way, and that a date for the first – and only – performance has been set. She complains about the limited run to the monastery's newest professor often, trading out the tea that the students love so dearly for something...stronger.

It’s rare for Byleth to ask too much about the musical – she’s a far better listener than Manuela could have hoped for, but really, some engagement would be welcomed.

Of course, that’s what makes the professor’s rare gems all the more intriguing.

“Why did you think to cast him?” Byleth asks, late into one of their mutual evenings. They’ve settled themselves in the balconies above the cathedral’s main hall, better to keep an eye on the students still lingering over blossoming sets. “Dedue, I mean.”

“Claude von Riegan,” Hilda’s voice carries, “if you try to pass me that hammer one more time, I’m going to shove it up you -”

“That’s a question many have asked me, dear,” Manuela admits. Her exhausted expression softens a little as Byleth moves to fill her glass, pouring long past what would be considered acceptable were Seteth in the room. “I’ll admit, the boy was an unconventional choice, but I didn’t pick him to embarrass him. His audition was stunning! He captured the gravitas I wanted from his character with seemingly no effort; it would have been a crime to let him get away.”

Byleth hums, but Manuela – ever-versed in the reading of even the most obstinate of expressions – can tell that her fellow professor isn’t convinced. She resists the urge to sigh and instead takes another long sip from her wine glass.

Somewhere down below them, something large and loud clatters to the ground.

Manuela closes her eyes and swears. A soft puff of air to her right suggests that Byleth might have laughed, but by the time she opens her eyes again, the other woman has schooled her expression back into its usual stillness.

“Sometimes, I almost regret taking Seteth up on this gig,” Manuela admits, cradling her wine glass close to her chest. “Teaching is enough of a hard deal on its own, as I’m sure you know. Now on top of that, I have Alois – _Alois –_ ham his way through one villainous solo after another! If it keeps going on like this, I may just throw up my hands and take the damn show to the Mittelfrank.”

Byleth makes a sympathetic noise (if it can be called that) and takes a sip of her own wine. Manuela feels something fond in her heart twinge as the other woman wrinkle her nose.

“I don’t know,” Byleth says, her voice as even as the stonework around them. Down in the cathedral, the voices of the Golden Deer rise, concern punctuated by laughter. “I think you’d miss this.”

Another crash sounds from the cathedral. Manuela looks at her fellow professor sidelong and takes another long gulp of wine. 

Ethereal Moon, 1180

“Professor Manuela.”

Elbow-deep in blue dye the night before the first performance, Manuela lifts her head and glares at the young man standing in the dressing room door. Dimitri raises his hands in automatic surrender, but she can still see the hints of a smile around his mouth.

“There you are!” Manuela says. “I assume Dedue is with you – come in, dears, and sit down. I’m not ruining my nails for no reason today.”

Dimitri’s smile grows as he steps inside. A short pause and a turn reveal Dedue lingering in the hall behind him.

“Dedue!” Manuela demands. “In here. Now.”

The beleaguered young man lets out a nearly-silent sigh, then comes and settles himself in the chair in front of Maunela’s pot of dye. Dimitri settles himself next to the mirror Manuela had one of the students set up against the nearby wall.

Silence fills the changing room, punctuated only by Manuela’s hums as she continues to stir her dye.

“Professor Manuela.” It’s Dedue, this time, who calls for her attention. “Are you certain this is necessary?”

Dimitri chokes on a laugh as Manuela raises her head again, leveling a glare at the back of the young man’s head. “It’s a little too late to back out now,” she tells him. “You know how much you hated that wig.”

Dedue does not reply. As she moves behind him, Manuela’s humming transitions from one of the musical’s instrumental numbers to Dedue’s own first number – a quiet, uncertain piece reflecting the leading man’s own concerns about his family and fighting skill.

She hesitates before bringing a hand to touch Dedue’s hair, and instead glances at him with a look of considerate concern.

Dedue keeps his gaze fixed on Dimitri, but he gives her a short, brusque nod.

*

Some hours later, Manuela finds herself in the dining halls, hands stained blue and listening to the whispers of the nearby students.

“I’ll say,” Mercedes says to Annette, just barely too loud to go unheard. “I didn’t expect him to look even more serious with blue hair!”

***

The musical debuts as part of the Saint Seiros Day celebration, with the reverent coming from all corner of the continent to worship – and, unwittingly, to submit to the whims of the student body, now entirely invested in their work.

The stage, so lovingly constructed by those individuals not cast with roles outside of the chorus, is less of a stage and more of an array of set pieces: a few towering trees, an ornate throne, and a weapons rack clearly appropriated from the training grounds. Those few pilgrims who make their way into the chapel before the performance can begin find their prayers interrupted by light giggling from the students down in the choir dressing room, not to mention those tech aides shuffling costumes and props about.

When the evening’s supper come to an end, it is the aide to the Archbishop and his sister who usher all of the confused and curious pilgrims into the waiting hall. There, a lone light – managed by Bernadetta in the rafters – shines on what appears to be an empty dueling ground, with two swords propped up off to each side. Back into the shadows, several students open up instrument cases, waxing bows and affixing reeds while a cacophony of tuning jars the otherwise reverent space.

From a darkened corner of the cathedral, Manuela glances out from behind an elegant fan. She watches as Seteth closes the doors to the atrium behind the last of the stragglers, then leans back against the farthest wall with a look close to consternation. She flashes the aide a subtle thumbs up and snickers as his frown deepens.

Across the hall, the tuning of the orchestra falls silent. The crowd, too, softens, confused murmurs transforming into reverent anticipation at the sight before them.

And then - 

The overture.

Manuela leans back into the shadows, listens to the sound unfurling around her – and smiles.

***

When you’ve been on the stage as the great Casagranda has, you learn to accept that some performances don’t live up to expectations. Notes go sour; costumes mishaps occur; on one notable occasion, and entire set broke down, and her colleagues had to compete an opera with improvised pantomime.

This, however – this is not one of those performances.

For all their inexperience, the students shine. There is a moment of awkwardness as Dimitri takes to the stage only to be upset – upstaged, even – by a man from Duscar. However, as the musical finds its rhythm, the audience relaxes, staring wide-eyed as Dedue transforms in front of them from a humble servant of the crown to Ike, a young and earnest swordsman who only wants to make his family proud.

They feel for him, Manuela can tell, when Dimitri-as-Greil chides him. They walk with him as he stumbles across Elinicia in the woods. 

Most of all, they weep with him when Sylvain, dressed as the Black Knight, comes forward and pierces Dimitri’s heart. Manuela covers her glowing smile with her fan as several pilgrims burst into tears.

And that, she knows, is only the first act.

Up until intermission, the performance is a blur. The laguz do the musical the favor of introducing the subplot, leaving Annette – Mist – to clutch at the fiery emblem glowing around her neck. Dedue takes a back seat until the metaphorical curtain rises again, and then –

The battles. Alois-as-Ashnard falls to audience laughter, his song no less earnest than the rest but his acting...less so. Manuela sighs and looks to Ike to save the scene, but the musical is already moving with the Black Knight’s familiar themes.

Seteth may have argued with her, at the time, about the validity of her changes to the story. Now, though, as Manuela watches Dedue weigh his sword in his hands against the prince he knows and loves –

Well. Seteth’s face at the back of the hall says it all.

The Black Knight’s bass rings out through the cathedral. In minor tones, he demands – insists – that Ike take his revenge for his father’s sake; that if he cannot stand, then the line he represents must fall. Dedue hefts his sword with a new weight, staring at it as the Black Knight circles, ever closer.

As the lights in the cathedral narrow to a single point, Manuela finds herself brought up short as Dedue, voice soft, argues with himself.

It’s not a moment she took lightly, while writing it, and it’s certainly not one that made it into the history books. There, Ike was brash; the Black Knight fell before he could understand that he was outmatched. The Ike here, too, knows what he can do, knows what his father taught him to do and how he can surpass him, but - 

It is Greil’s voice coming out from beneath that helm. Greil’s voice and Greil’s history, and Ike, the son who loves his father, struggles in the face of it.

When he comes to his decision, though, it is a decision that sticks. There’s a cry from somewhere in the audience, but Dedue does not hesitate. The lights flare back to life, and the duel – short, in comparison to the rest of the performance – sees his enemy fall. The Black Knight repeats Greil’s last words back to his living son, and then the room falls quiet.

The crowd cheers, but the expression on Dedue’s face is so heartbroken – so injured – that Manuela feels her breath catch in her chest.

Ike’s final lines are the only spoken lines in the performance – the only time Manuela felt that song could not carry her intent. Dedue raises his voice above the cheers of the crowd and, in the brief moment that comes after, reprises the musical’s proudest song:

It’s a good old business

This family business

The one that’s built for you and me

But it’s not just business

No, this isn’t business. 

...

Was this always my destiny?

There is no cheering after that line – no noise of support. Just silence as Dedue – Ike – leaves his sword behind him on the stage.

Manuela feels the tension hold, then drain as Dorothea returns to the stage. Even with Ike’s final words ringing in the air, she is able to guide the audience to their softer conclusion. Manuela finds herself slipping away from the gentling crowd as Elincia demands of them a better tomorrow, and as Ike fades from their memories.

Come her final note, the audience is more than ready to burst into applause. Manuela watches Dorothea turn a pretty shade of pink, then makes her way backstage for the curtain call.

*

In the days that follow the performance, the pilgrims trail out of Garreg Mach, their gossip rich with the musical’s praises. Manuela finds herself in the tea garden, once the last of them have left, smiling into her cup as her leading man runs a hand through hair that is still blue.

“You wanted to meet with me?” she prompts, when his gaze grows a little too vacant. “I must say, I thought that by this point, you would want nothing to do with me.”

Dedue huffs, and it’s almost a laugh. “I had – a question,” he says at last, staring down at his cup. “Ike’s last solo – why did you write it the way that you did?”

The high from that silent moment still sits heavy in her veins, but Manuela schools herself in an attempt to answer him seriously. 

“The thing is, Dedue,” she says, “Ike’s story is not a happy one. Even in the history books, the poor child disappears for a near four years before reappearing and having to endure an even greater tragedy.” She takes a sip of her tea. “When I wrote what I did, I wanted the audience to understand what it was that he had lost. Yes, he has his victory over Ashnard, and even over the Black Knight, but in the end – well. He’s still a boy without his father – without a place to even really call his own.”

She doesn’t mean much by it, but Dedue’s expression shifts from confused to – thoughtful.

“It’s a strange work,” she acknowledges, setting her cup aside. “But I do believe I am proud of it. Really, you must join us at the Mittelfrank if we ever have a chance to put it on properly – I don’t think we could ever replace you in the titular role!”

Dedue raises a tentative hand to his barely-faded hair, and Manuela fights to choke back a laugh at his expression. It’s only when that gaze turns thoughtful – and then, in its way, mournful – that she feels her soft heart go out to him.

“I do not know if I will be able to,” Dedue tells her, his tone lost in memories Manuela will not ask him to share. “But should you put it on, please – leave a ticket aside for me.”

Manuela reaches out and hesitates for only a moment before putting her hand on top of his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
